The Stranger of Hogwarts
by ransom29
Summary: A stranger comes to Hogwarts and enters the lives of Harry Potter and a surly Potions Master...
1. New Surroundings

Author's Note:  This is the first part of a trilogy that I am planning on writing.  I've tried writing HP fanfics before, but none as exciting as this one.  There's a lot to soak in, but it will be worth all your time.  I really hope you enjoy this journey I've created as thoroughly as I've enjoyed creating it.

Disclaimer:  All characters that are recognizable from the Harry Potter books do indeed belong to the master herself, J.K. Rowling.  Everyone else belongs to me.  

_PROLOGUE:_

_How cowardly it is to run from our enemies; to have the choice of facing them-and the chance of defeating them-and deciding against it; to show our weaknesses and therefore weaken ourselves; to bring about our defeat and leave us with nothing but the pain of wondering what would have happened if we had not run, but turned our cowardice into bravery._

_***_

The Dark One's power was at its peak the year she came into their lives; evil had replaced his blood and was now flowing through his veins instead of the precious liquid that brought life.  Life—he had nothing of the sort; he roamed the earth dead.  His heart was stone.  He possessed no feelings—compassion, remorse, or the like.  He killed as if it were a hobby, and he enjoyed it as such.  No one could stop him; he was invincible.  All were afraid of him; even she flinched in his presence.  But she would come, and change everything—for the prophecy named the year after "The Year of the Dark One's Demise".    

***

A young girl wanders among the hundreds that fill the London train station.  She is not extraordinarily special in any way.  Her long auburn hair falls to the middle of her back and contains two thin, odd-looking braided wraps on either side of her face.  She is tall, tan, lean and her features are hard.  Her green eyes show no mercy, and with her peach lips pressed she expresses her extreme dislike for conversation.  Her nostrils flare at the sign of her annoyance with the humans that block her way as she pushes through them toward her destination.  The place is too crowded, giving her a claustrophobic feeling.  It is dark and loud, and contains odd smells that she is not accustomed to.  She runs into someone every five seconds but they don't seem to care; everyone is bumping into everyone else.  Her slow pace enrages her and she secretly wishes to leap over their heads in order to gain some distance.  Her luggage frustrates her even more, as it is unnecessary for her in any other normal circumstance.  But this is no ordinary situation for her.  She is stepping out of her familiar and ancient world and into one she has only heard about from her elders.  She is used to awesome adventures and great dangers, but her own genius and antagonizing personality has landed her in a position that has forced her into this human world—this smelly, dark, crowded, loud world.  She has no choice.  She is only safe when she is under his care.     

Book the First

Chapter One: New Surroundings

She stopped a moment.  Her dress was as plain as could be.  She wore pants—jeans, she remembered the sales person calling them—and a green sweater.  Her shoes squeaked as they turned uneasily over the freshly mopped floor.  She had been pushed around by so many people that she was lost.  She reached in her pocket and pulled out a tattered piece of paper with a man's handwriting on it:

_            Hogwarts Express_

_            Platform 9 3/4_

_            900H_

She pulled out her pocket watch.  It was an extraordinary mechanism.  Something the man in the store said would last a lifetime.  She had always used sundials in order to keep track of the time, but this device rather intrigued her, and was glad for its easy interpretation. 

            _8:45_

She looked up at the signs protruding from the brick columns, indicating her location.  She had reached her destination, but still had no idea where she was.  She cursed under her breath.  As her eyes wandered they come to rest upon a young boy with a cart full of luggage; she guessed him to be around seventeen years of age, but with the little knowledge she had of his species, could have been completely off.  He was of medium height, with dark brown hair and a muscular build.  He was staring at the beam between platforms nine and ten.  As she approached him the boy turned around, obviously sensing her powerful presence.   

            "Hogwarts?"

She nodded her head; he extended his hand.  Not knowing what this gesture implied, she looked at him with a quizzical look.  He drew his hand back, quite awkwardly.

            "It's called a handshake," he paused uneasily.

            She had of course heard of such a thing before, but it was quite uncommon in her homeland.  She forced a smile and he held out his hand again.  The girl then raised her own hand and the boy clasped it before anyone noticed their embarrassing situation.  

            "I'm Blaine Hopkins."

            "I am glad to meet you, Blaine Hopkins."

The boy's eyes narrowed and his brows fell onto his eyelids in a very scrutinizing face.  The girl quickly looked away and proceeded to glance around at the people who occupied the space around them.  All of them were rushing; rushing onward toward their destinations, rushing through life.  How interesting it was to her to watch humans be humans.  Especially the ones they call muggles.  They were so oblivious, so naive, and so helpless.  Her pursed lips curled downward into a frown.

            "So...do you have a name?"

The girl winced; of course she had a name.  But hers was too complex for his simple mind.  Yet she was just as foolish for not having offered a name to him after he had done the same for her.  What a terrible human she had turned out to be. She searched her mind for the memory of the name her and her savior had created, and with great luck found it almost instantly. 

            "Dorrin.  Chambers."

            "Pleasure to meet you, Dorrin."

            "The pleasure is all mine, Blaine."

The boy smiled.  He had perfectly straight and brilliant white teeth.  

            "Right then.  Let me show you the way in."  

He winked.  She nodded.

            "All you have to do run straight through that wall."

He pointed to the beam in front of them; it was solid brick.  The girl raised a curious eyebrow—to which the young boy laughed.

            "Seriously.  It sounds dumb, but there's no other way.  Ladies first then?"

He pulled his cart back out of the way to make room for Dorrin's.  Grasping on to the handle, she jogged to the barrier.  It was strange how no one in the station noticed her running into a wall.  Relentless in her journey, Dorrin halted only when she realized her surroundings had changed.  Emitting smoke, fumes, and a hint of magic into the air, a great steam engine stood before her.  There were less people there; or perhaps it felt that way because there were more children—smaller children, to which she could look over.  Dorrin felt a slight hint of relief; the atmosphere at Platform 9 ¾ was much more welcoming.  She quickly moved out of the way as she sensed the boy following her lead.  They walked together to drop off their luggage at the back of the train.  After lifting his trunk to the loader, Blaine attempted to help Dorrin, whose trunk was twice as heavy (she was, after all, a female).  He staggered a bit, but before completely falling backwards the girl helped with the load.  Following the completion of that task, they walked together back toward the passenger cars.

            "Would you like to sit with me?" Blaine asked out of pure civility.

The girl tipped her head yes.  As they walked, Dorrin watched the new breed of humans scramble about her.  A few gave her an odd look, and when she noticed they quickly turned away.  She smiled to herself.  Soon others stopped and stared; they were drawn to her.  Time seemed to stand still as the magic folk turned to watch the new magical creature enter into their lives.  Blaine got on board, but the girl hesitated before stepping up.  He turned to her.

            "What's wrong?"           

            "I have yet to experience a journey aboard a locomotive."  The boy paused, perplexed.

            "Well, it's a first time for everyone."

He extended his hand once more, and the girl was confused by his repeated notion for a handshake.  Deciding to go along with this strange human's rituals, she placed her hand in his, but instead of a handshake she was pulled into the car.  She did not expect such an action and was therefore taken by such surprise that she fell against the boy, who in turn crashed into the wall behind them.

            "Sorry."

She removed herself from his arms and dusted herself off.  Then she allowed him to lead her to a traveling compartment.  The hall separating the rows was larger than most, allowing for plenty of room to move around. As they passed other full rooms, heads popped out as if a magnet were pulling them to her.  She herself stopped to look through a compartment door at a young boy, who sat at a window looking out at the platform, while his blonde-haired companion argued with a rather snotty but knowledgeable girl that sat across from them.  The boy slowly turned to her--not knowing he was looking right at her, but knowledgeable that she was there.  She heard a door open, and Blaine beckoned her into their own room.  The seats were large and comfortable, covered in plush red velvet.  The window spread across the entire length of the room.  Outside a few last minute stragglers scrambled onto the steam engine.  After taking their seats an obnoxious whistle sounded, and the train lurched forward, the familiar chugging sound picking up as they exited the station.  

            "So you're new at Hogwarts, right?"  Dorrin tore her eyes away from the window.  His heavy Scottish accent annoyed the girl, but she nodded in reply to his obviously stupid question.

            "What year are you?"

            "Seven."

            "Oh wow.  And you're just now starting your witch training?"

The girl rolled her eyes—only slightly, so the boy could not see.

            "I am a transfer student."

            "Ah, I see.  Where'd you come from?"

            "Australia."

            "Oh."

The rest of their trip was silent, with the exception of a few minor (yet very annoying) disturbances made by a cart filled with odd sweets and toys.  Seeing the girl, the old witch thought better to ask if she wished to purchase anything, and moved on.  Dorrin spent the rest of the time staring absent-mindedly out the window.  The scenery was beautiful, despite the overcast sky that loomed above the countryside.  Different shades of green whirled by, interrupted by the occasional shimmering blues, provided by bodies of water.  There was an announcement that circled through the cabin when there were fifteen minutes left before they arrived at Hogwarts.  Dorrin went to her travel case and pulled out the black robes she was given to wear while at the school.  She put them on in the bathroom, which was quite a feat in itself; the lavatories were the only place that seemed regular size for a train.  She looked in the miniature-sized mirror and scowled; the robes looked ridiculous on her.  And they itched.  She returned to her compartment—scratching the whole way—to find Blaine already in his robes.  The crest on his left breast was of a proud lion enveloped in crimson and gold.  Noticing her curious stare, the boy explained the four houses to which one was sorted.  Dorrin acted interested, but was too preoccupied with her anticipation of their arrival.  When the train finally came to a halt, the girl stepped out.  The rush of fresh air that filled her lungs was indeed very welcome.  The sun was setting in the west; it painted beautiful reds, oranges, and purples across the sky.   Blaine stepped down and came to her side, trying to understand why she stared up into the air as she did.  When Dorrin finally came out of her oblivion, she extended a hand to Blaine.

            "Thank you for your service."

            "Your welcome.  I'll see you at the feast."

***NOTE: For those who need clarification, this story takes place a year before Harry defeated Voldemort.  Hence the prophecy "Year of the Dark One's Demise", and the statement that this was the year AFTER Dorrin came to Hogwarts. 


	2. The Sorting

Chapter Two: The Sorting

A booming voice pierced the girl's ears.  She turned to look into the face of a giant.  

            "Dorrin Chambers?  Dorrin Chambers!" he yelled, looking up from a piece of paper.  Dorrin stepped up to him.

            "I am Dorrin Chambers."  The man looked down at her and smiled.

            "Well all righ' then Dorrin.  Dumbledore told me to look after ye.  So, um, follow me."  Hogwart's Keeper of Keys and Grounds soared over her like a giant tree.  He was just as round as one too, but had the face of a gentle bear.  He turned around and beckoned the girl to follow him.  He walked her to the rowboats that would take them up to the castle.

            "Hogwarts has never had a new student start in their seventh year before.  Dumbledore don't really approve of it."

            "There is a first time for everything."

Dorrin climbed into a small rickety old rowboat with two other smaller children.  They looked nervously back and forth at each other and decided, in their best interest, not to engage in conversation with this girl.  The ride to the castle was long, tedious, and completely unnecessary.  The sun had set, and the night was as black as a raven's feathers.  There were no stars out that night, and Dorrin frowned because of it.  Even the moon was shrouded in an eerie glow, casting an even more ghostly reflection on the water.  The ink black surface of the lake rippled slightly as the boats passed over it.  The girl was glad to reach the shore, for as much as she loved the water; her two companions practically clung to her robes in fear of falling overboard.  Upon arriving at the front gates, Hagrid shuffled the first years--and Dorrin--into the foyer.  Everything was made from a light marble stone.  Great carvings covered every inch of the space and every footstep the children made echoed a thousand times through the area.  As they climbed the steps an old witch was waiting for them.  She unfolded her arms and surveyed this new batch.  The girl's eyes met the old woman's.

            "Miss Chambers.  We've been expecting you."

The girl forced a smile and the witch returned the same half sincere motion.  Then she turned to address the rest of the first years, who itched with anticipation and nervousness.  Dorrin sighed at their childish behavior.  When she had finished her speech, the old woman walked to the great oak doors that were previously behind her.  The rest of the group followed her and the doors opened by themselves as they were led to the front of the Great Hall.  It was filled with light from flickering candles above them.  Dorrin noticed that the ceiling seemed to be nonexistent, and instead the hall was open to the night sky outside--which was still starless.  Four tables lined the floor, and one perpendicular one sat at the front of the room.  The tables were filled with the rest of the student body and staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  The room fell silent as heads turned in Dorrin's direction.  Standing two heads taller above her entire squadron, the girl ignored the whispers and the eyes that scrutinized her.  When her group stopped walking, the sorting began.  The girl looked up at the staff table to the man whom she owed her life.  He looked older than the last time they had met, but he looked youthful in spirit.  She gave a curt but deeply respectful nod; he, a wink.

            "Chambers, Dorrin."

The teachers and students laid all eyes upon her as she stepped up to her seat on an old stool.  Dorrin had no choice but to look at the see of faces staring back at her, examining her.  She averted her gaze to the doors straight ahead of her as the witch placed an old ragged hat on her head.

            "Ah, it's you.  I've heard you were going to be joining us this year," the hat said into her hair.  "So which house will it be?"

            "Where bravery comes before cleverness and kindness, for I need nothing of the latter."

There was a pause.  "Despite the fact that you seem to misunderstand the criteria of our houses,"

The girl sighed and started to twitch from aggravation.

            "GRYFFINDOR!"  It shouted.  

There was no clapping as the girl rose from her seat and took one at her assigned house's table.  She sat next to her Hogwarts Express companion, and proceeded to watch the rest of the ceremony.  She became a people-watcher once again, and noticed that the boy and his friends from the train were also Gryffindors.  After the sorting was finally over, and the Headmaster gave his beginning of the year speech, the once empty tables were suddenly covered with foods of all sorts.  The students grabbed at everything in a most unprofessional way, while Dorrin looked around for something worth consuming.  She looked up once more at the staff table, but this time her eyes strayed to the end, where a dark clothed man sat silently watching.  Their eyes met.  His were dark and cool--empty like his heart, which Dorrin could sense through the tunnel-like holes.  He immediately felt strange inside; it was like something was inside him--swimming through his veins--trying to find something.  He didn't know what.  He just knew that this girl looking at him now was no ordinary witch.  Albus Dumbledore never took on new students unless there was a very good reason--if he only knew.

            "Blaine?"

            "Yesh?"  The boy shot up from the bread roll he had been consuming.

            "Who is that professor that sits at the end of the table?"     

Blaine looked up to where the girl's gaze led.  The professor had looked away almost instantly after Dorrin had laid her eyes upon him.  

            "That's Professor Snape.  He teaches Potions, but he's been after the Dark Arts job ever since he came here a few years back.  He's always got a stick up his bum about something.  Pretty strict, so don't try anything funny with him."

            "Potions..." she drifted off as she poked at a leg of chicken the boy had placed on her plate.  He was not so sure about his decision to befriend the girl.

            "Don't they have chicken down in Australia?"

            "Yes, but it is not a common intake of nutrition among my people--family."  She reached for the platter of vegetables, and Hopkin's fellow Gryffindors gave him odd looks.  He shrugged his shoulders and continued with his own meal.  

After the feast, the students were lead to their respected houses.  The Potions master watched as the new student exited the Great Hall.  Just as she was about to turn the corner, she turned around and locked eyes with him...and winked.  Instantly he was warmed to the core.  It was a feeling that he had never experienced, and he was quite surprised by it.  This girl intrigued him, and he looked forward to their first Potions class together.

When Dorrin turned to follow her classmates, she met instead the headmaster of Hogwarts.

            "_Regalya, Miss Chambers.  Please, may I have a word?"_

Dorrin nodded and was lead to Dumbledore's office.  It was quite a pleasant place, with more gadgets than she had ever seen in one place.  A great phoenix cooed softly as Dumbledore took his seat behind his desk, but the girl remained standing.  

            "How was the trip here?  No trouble I hope."

            "No, indeed I was quite safe.  Thanks to this."  She pulled out a stone from her pocket.  A stone that contained a Halongel, a magical flower which repelled Dark Magic.  It seemed forever ago that he had given it to her for her protection, but in reality was only a few months ago.  Dorrin remembered the night perfectly.  

***

She had written to him only as a last resort.  There was nowhere else for her to go; nowhere else for her to hide.  So she took the advice of a very reliable friend of hers and contacted Albus Dumbledore.  She explained her situation; how she had landed herself in quite the predicament and how her life was now in danger.  He wrote back saying he was eager to have her.  They met on an unusually cool day at the end of July.  She arrived by horseback and when she dismounted he was there waiting for her.  After a stiff introduction, she was led up to the same room she was in now.  They talked for hours about everything; it was an amazing conversation.  Albus had offered her the choice of staying at the school sooner than the start of the term, but she wanted her new identity to seem as real as possible.  Before she left, the Headmaster embraced her as they stood outside in the evening sun, with the wind rustling their clothes and hair.  It was an odd sensation for her--being hugged by a human--but she had gathered that he was a jaunty and optimistic sort of fellow.  His arms were warm and welcoming, and she melted into his hug.  She really hoped, as she climbed back on her steed, that every human she met would be as sweet as this one.  But it was wishful thinking.  

***

Dumbledore took the stone and placed it in his top drawer.  "Thank you again for all of your assistance, Albus.  I cannot comprehend a way to repay you," she caressed her chin, thinking.  "Although I have noticed my 'human' survival skills have frightened some of the other students here."

The old wizard's eyes twinkled as he let out a hearty laugh.  "Ah yes, I too have noticed their odd behavior.  You can only learn so much about us through books and stories.  In order to act like a human you must have experience in the field with them. Study them--the way they talk and act.  You'll get the hang of it before you know it."  The girl smiled as he led her to the door.  Before exiting she gave him a hug.

            "Thank you, Albus.  It is so good to see you again."  He smiled.  His periwinkle eyes twinkled in the soft candlelight that filled his office.  They paused in silence for a moment, examining each other.  Dorrin smiled.  

            "What is it, child?"

The girl shook her head.  "It's nothing of great importance."  He raised his eyebrow.  She sighed and replied, "It's just that...you remind me of a man I once knew."  She stopped.

            "And who was this lucky fellow who you once knew?"

            "My father."  The old man smiled and gently pushed her out the door.  Waiting outside was Blaine.

            "Hey.  I saw you go with Professor Dumbledore--is everything all right?" he asked after noticing the water in her eyes.

            "Yes.  Everything is fine."

            "OK," Blaine replied, not totally believing her.  "Well, I though I would wait for you so you made it up to the dorms OK."

            "That is very kind of you," Dorrin said as he escorted her to the Gryffindor common room.  It was a good thing that he had waited for her; the castle was so dark and enchanted that her sense of direction was completely thrown off and had she been alone she would have gotten lost in a heartbeat.  Before heading upstairs to her room Dorrin laid a hand on Blaine's shoulder.  "Thank you for everything you have done for me today.  I greatly appreciate it."  She kissed him on the cheek and walked up the stairs, never looking back.

            "Your welcome," a torpid Blaine whispered.

When Dorrin finally found her room, she collapsed on her bed.  It had been a very long day.  She looked to the chair at her left and noticed that new robes had been placed there with the Gryffindor emblem implanted on them.  She smiled at the thought of less abrasive robes.  All her things were there and her bed was turned down for her.  She pulled herself from her recumbent position and changed into her pajamas.  Her roommates were sound asleep when she crawled back into bed--a warm and comfortable bed.  It had been a very long day, and sleep came fast to the new student.

That night the girl dreamt of him.  He was becoming more vivid in her visions every night.  He wanted her, and he would eventually find her.  The only question was 'when?'

***LIKE WHAT YOU'RE READING?  TELL ME!***


	3. The First Day

Chapter Three: The First Day

Her first day at Hogwarts was extremely long and tremendously boring.  Her classes were all pointless, as she knew more of what her professors taught than they would ever know.  As she tried to make sense of why she had chosen the way of a student, Dorrin sat down at the Gryffindor table for lunch.  She hadn't even realized who she had taken a seat next to.  A small first year with dirty blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes resided to the right of her.  The boy's head slowly twisted around on the girl.  He stared at her until she was dragged back to reality.  She looked into his augmented eyes.

            "Well, if it isn't Chase Dumbledore.  I was wondering when I would meet you."

She smiled, and Albus Dumbledore's brother's grandson returned it, though with less assurance.  He was still a bit taken back that she had sat down next to him.  By this time all the food in Nigel Berkson's mouth had fallen back onto his plate, and even Helena Saxon--who normally frowned upon her friends' immaturity when it came to girls--sat fixated in her seat.  Dorrin waited patiently for them to snap back to their senses.  Chase reacted first, and after clearing his throat, spoke.

            "I'm sorry, but what's your name again?"

            "Dorrin Chambers.  And your friends, do they have names?"  The girl smiled as Chase stumbled over his words.

            "Oh yes, of course.  This is Nigel Berkson--"  Nigel was the last to be brought back to earth, conveniently by Helena, who jabbed him in the side with her finger.

            "And I'm Helena Saxon," she said with confidence, "Hogwarts has never had a transfer student arrive in their seventh year.  Where did you say you were from?"

            "I did not.  But I am from Australia."

            "Then why do you have an English accent?"  Helena's two companions stared at her in horror as she interrogated their guest.  Dorrin, on the other hand, laughed.

            "I was actually born in England and lived here until my eleventh year," she started, "but before I could be accepted to Hogwarts, my parents were summoned to Sydney to do some research for the Minister of Magic.  So I spent my first six years of witch training down under," she recited the story from memory.  Was it convincing enough?  By the sound of Helena's 'oh' and Nigel and Chase's smirks, Dorrin knew that her story was indeed as believable as it was supposed to be.  She enjoyed sitting with Chase and his friends.  He was as interesting as she knew he was going to be, and she was flattered at Nigel's red face every time he came in eye contact with her.  Helena was at first intimidated, but by the end of the lunch hour, Dorrin had learned more about the history of Hogwarts than she would ever need to know; Helena was the most acumen person Dorrin had ever met, next to herself.

            "So what's your next class?"  Chase asked as he and Dorrin headed out of the Great Hall, with Nigel and Helena trailing behind.  The girl took out her schedule.

            "Advanced Potions."

            "Bummer," he replied, as Nigel tugged at his robes.  "Well, best be off.  Good luck with Snape."

            "Thank you," she said, still wondering how one man could intimidate so many people.

            Dorrin thought she was going to pass out on her way to Snape's classroom.  Her kind was not used to such dark places, and the dungeons were darker and more depressing than any place she had visited.  She needed sunlight desperately--anyone like her needed it to survive--but in order to maintain her cover, she stuck her chest out and breathed slow and deep as she took her seat next to Blaine.  She didn't even notice the man sitting at his desk at the front of the room, who was scribbling fiercely on a piece of parchment that lay before him.  Likewise, he didn't see her until he spoke her name during role call.  He was tall; it was the first chance she got to examine him in full.  His shoulder length black hair fell in his stark white face, but he was undisturbed by it.  He wore many layers of ebony fabric, which made it hard to tell about his body composition.  He had a hooked nose and thin, indifferent lips that parted to let out a smooth, bone-chilling voice.  His soulless eyes immediately fell upon her.

            "Miss Chambers, I am surprised to see you here."  His tone sent shivers up and down the girl's spine.

            "Why is that Professor?" She had spoken before she was asked, and every Gryffindor stared at her with open mouths.  The Slytherins however, snickered at her question--because they figured it would get in her in trouble.  Snape threw his hands out from the folds of his black robes, and glided over to Dorrin's seat, hovering over her like a snake preparing for an attack.

            "Because Miss Chambers," he hissed menacingly at her, "I told the Headmaster it was a very bad idea to let a transfer student into Hogwarts, and I was hoping he would take my advice."  Dorrin looked intently straight ahead of her, not wanting to tempt the Professor to give her a punishment of any kind.  "And do you know _why_ I thought it was such a bad idea?" he sneered at her.

            "No," she replied, then quickly added, "Sir."

            "Because I do not think you will be able to handle the work involved in this class.  In fact, I highly doubt that you have any more intelligence than that of a second year in the area of potions."  He paused for a moment, and then moved in close enough so that only she could hear his next words.  "So I hope, for your sake, that you are a fast learner."  Dorrin couldn't believe her ears.  How could he get away with such brutality and cynicism?  Why would anyone let him?  

            "Now," Snape shouted, making students jump from their seats, "it begins.  Just because you are in your seventh and last year here, your workload will not be easier.  In fact, it will be harder.  It will be excruciating, tormenting, and boundless," he sneered slightly at the sight of his students' petrified looks.  "But, that is the price you pay for being born a wizard," he pierced Dorrin's eyes, "or witch."  Her face remained expressionless.  She knew better than to pick a fight with a human.  They were clumsy and irrational, often acting before they think of the consequences, and it would be most unfortunate if she were to kill him for threatening her.  

Snape then told them of their first assignment.  They opened their lab books and began collecting ingredients for their first potion, which was used to cure any type of allergy.  Those around her struggled to follow the directions listed in their books, but Dorrin tossed ingredients into her pewter cauldron left to right, knowing the potion by heart.  She was done within twenty minutes of receiving the assignment.  Professor Snape watched her out of the corner of his eye while patrolling the aisles, looking for every opportunity to criticize someone's work.  

            "Professor Snape?"  He jerked his head up from its position over a petrified girl who shakingly added her items under his scrutinizing eye.  

            "I am finished with the assignment."  He looked at her with a perplexed and skeptical look, but for pure amusement went and checked her cauldron.  Indeed, it looked as though she had completed the potion; it was the correct color and height at the side of the bowl and her supplies were all used up.  Yet he still refused to believe she had finished such a complicated potion in such a short amount of time.  Just then the girl he had been watching previously sneezed.

            "You, Thatcher, come here."  The girl got up from her seat and looked as though an invisible hand was dragging her as she made her way to where Snape stood.  He picked up the ladle and dipped it into the cauldron.  "Since you are so confident of your potion, shall we give it a test on poor Miss Thatcher here?"  The girl froze, mortified.  Sure, she had recently obtained allergies and they were quite bothersome, but she would have rather been lowered into a pit full of crocodiles than consume a potion that was made in _twenty _minutes.  

Dorrin just smiled and replied, "Of course."  

The Potions master shoved the spoon into the poor girl's hands and she reluctantly sipped the concoction.  Within minutes, the red from her eyes receded and her breath came from her nose, whose passages were now cleared.  A great smile graced her face, until Snape ruined the moment by slamming the ladle back onto the table.  

            "Well, since this assignment was obviously too simple for you, I have no choice to find other ways to challenge you."

So began a relationship just like any that Snape created—there was always a disparity between him and his students.  The odium with which he taught his classes made the students dread coming to it.  He had no respect for Dorrin, yet she still yearned to prove herself.  It was her nature.  She spent that night in detention with the Potions master, creating a potion in which she herself doubted its existence.  She believed he was just making her throw random items into a cauldron to make a 'potion', which explained why she never got it right.  Dorrin learned that day that the humans' way of respect for their elders was by living in fear of them--another note she would need to write to herself.


	4. A Terrible Mistake

Chapter Four: A Terrible Mistake

A couple weeks passed and Dorrin was finally getting used to the way things worked around Hogwarts.  Her species had a unique style of learning--whatever they learned, they did it fast.  She soon knew her way around the castle like the back of her hand, and she picked up on the speech patterns of the other kids in a matter of days.  Dumbledore had been right; you must interact with humans in order to act like one.

The day of the first Gryffindor Quidditch match was unusually cold.  The northerly winds had picked up early in the season and had been blowing full-force the night before the game.  Dorrin put on practically every item of clothing she brought with her--her body was not used to cold temperatures.  When everyone filled in to the stadium, Nigel and Helena invited her to sit with them.  To her, it was freezing outside.  Nigel and Helena, however, wore light jackets, and exchanged odd looks with one another at the sight of Dorrin's attire.  

            "Are you really that cold that you had to put on your entire wardrobe?" asked Helena.

            "I am from Australia, remember?  My blood starts to freeze at a higher temperature than yours.  Does it get even colder than this?"

            "Much," said Nigel, as Dorrin snuggled a little closer to him.  Helena frowned.

While the match was taking place, Nigel explained all the basics of Quidditch to Dorrin.  Despite looking interested, she still thought it silly that these humans zoomed through the air on _brooms_.  The only interesting thing about the match was watching Blaine interact with his team.  He was the seeker and a wonderful captain.  Chase was on the team also.  As one of the team's Chasers he gained most of the points that lead to their eventual victory.  It wasn't a very exciting match at all.  In fact, after just forty minutes of playtime Gryffindor crushed Hufflepuff 230-20.  No one was really surprised.

That afternoon the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher--Professor Julimore--decided to hold a special dueling course specifically geared toward the type of spells one might use if they were followers of the Dark Arts.  Grant Julimore was a nice enough fellow; he was fair but strict when need be, but generally interesting to interact with.  The class was lead down to one of the dueling classrooms located on the third floor.  The curtains were thrown back and the afternoon sun poured through the pains and drenched the room and everything in it.  To their most unfortunate surprise, when they entered the room, Professor Snape stood waiting, tapping his foot impatiently.  The room became darker as the harsh realization crept upon the students--Professor Julimore had asked him to help with the lessons.  

            "Well of course, who better to show examples of Dark Arts spells then the guy who used to be a Death Eater himself," a fellow classmate muttered as they laid their eyes upon the insufferable teacher.  Just as they finished filing in the room, a sharp pain hit Dorrin in her ears.  A horrifying thought struck her--_she had forgotten her tonic.  She quickly fumbled under her robes for her pouch filled with her potions, but to her dismay, it wasn't to be found.  She had left it on her dresser that morning because she was late getting up and was rushing to get to her first class.  Another sharp pain hit her while Professor Julimore was explaining what they were about to learn.  Dorrin didn't even realize her name was being called until the whole class was looking at her._

            "Miss Chambers, I asked if you would care to be a volunteer for a demonstration?" asked an annoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

            "I'm so sorry.  Yes, of course, I would love to help."   Shaking violently now, the girl stepped slowly onto the platform and stopped when she realized her opponent was none other than the Potions Master.

            "Don't worry my dear," said Professor Julimore, noticing her eyes grow wide, "your safety is in our best interest.  This is just a demonstration."  It looked as though Snape thought otherwise.  He had his wand raised and his eyebrows turned down in a scowl.  Dorrin was still trembling, and the soreness in her ears had become unbearable.  Everything seemed so much louder and brighter.  A loud rumbling hit her like a train as Professor Julimore spoke.

            "Don't forget your wand, Miss Chambers."

She fumbled with her robes, trying desperately not to show her distress.  When she finally found her wand, she pointed it at Snape, who was smiling a most devious smile.  

            "Now that we are ready," Julimore began again, "Professor Snape here will now kindly remind everyone how to disarm your opponent."  

"_Expelliarmus!" Snape shouted as he hurled his spell toward the girl.  In one swift motion Dorrin's wand flew out of her hand and into the wall adjacent to the platform.  It wasn't like she ever used it anyway, but the shear force Snape had used against her wished she had it just to imagine that it would protect her.  She jumped back, dizzy and in terrible pain.  The world was falling away beneath her feet and any moment now...._

And then it happened.   Things started to become clear again, _very clear.  Her muscles tensed as they contracted, and she could feel her body start to coil.  There was no stopping it.  She took several steps back--hoping that no one was noticing the change--when she bumped into a wall.  Behind her were two swords crossed above the Hogwarts shield.  She looked back at the Professor, who was prepared for his next attack.  Her instinct took over, and as his spell hurtled toward her, she took hold of one of the swords.  It was heavier than what she was used to, but not heavy enough that she couldn't maneuver it.  She flipped through mid-air to avoid the spell and threw the blade at Snape.  When she landed the whole class was staring, dumbfounded.  Professors Snape and Julimore were in utter shock.  Dorrin stood up gradually, still dazed and in a trance.  She finally gathered her emotions and ran toward Snape, who was pinned to the wall through his robes._

            "I'm, I'm...so sorry P-p-professor S-snape," she stuttered as she removed the sword—which had landed only an inch or so above his shoulder.  "I don't know w-what I-I was thinking."  She took one look at the weapon in her hand and dropped it on the floor.  It sounded like an atomic bomb inside the silenced room.  She grabbed her face and ran out before anyone could speak to her.  How could she have been so foolish to let this happen?  Had anyone noticed the change?  Perhaps not.  But the way her attitude changed...ugh, it was going to be a long rest of the day.


	5. A Convincing Story

Chapter Five: A Convincing Story

Dorrin sprinted up to her room.  Her pouch lay as it had last night--on her dresser.  She tore open the flap and pulled out a vial filled with a dark green liquid.  The pain was driving her to the point where--if she had lost her sanity (which she was close)--she would have gulped the entire bottle and blacked out.  But being the circumspect being she was drank but two small sips.  Almost immediately the pain from her ears, eyes, and muscles had dwindled down to nothing.  After a few deep breaths, she walked over to the mirror.  There she was, though it was not her.  The reflection was of her human self--simple, plain, ordinary.  Dorrin brushed her hair back behind her ears and they seemed to be normal.  Just then there was a knock on the door.

            "Dorrin?  It's Sage.  Are you alright?"

            "Yes.  I'm fine.  You can come in."

Sage LeBroke was a roommate of Dorrin's.  She was kind and motherly--always making sure that everyone around her was comfortable and happy.  And she was the first to console during a crisis.  She pulled open the door and walked over to Dorrin, who was still at the mirror.  A very worried expression crossed her face.

            "What happened back there?  One minute you were all shaking and scared and the next it looked like you were ready to kill Snape."

Dorrin searched for an explanation.  "Sage, you might want to sit down for this."

Her friend backed up until she hit the bed and fell to a sitting position.  She looked frightened and curious all at once.  Dorrin let out a heavy sigh.

            "You must promise not to tell anyone about this."  Her friend nodded her head in agreement.  Dorrin replaced the cork in her vial and placed it in Sage's hand.  The girl looked up into her eyes.  Sensing her bewilderment, Dorrin replied, "I was born with this defense mechanism.  A sort of condition in which I can get aggressive with others."  Sage narrowed her eyes and tilted her head in more confusion.  "Very aggressive.  If I am cornered or threatened in any way, I go through a painful transformation where all my senses become incredibly sharp and my muscles tense up to the point where they nearly explode," she was yelling now.  "This potion keeps me from getting to that point.  I forgot to take it this morning."  Sage's eyes were now huge.  She couldn't believe that this sweet little naive friend of hers could ever contain so much power or rage.  

            "Well, let's hope Professor Snape will go for that; he's absolutely furious.  He sent me up to retrieve you."  She gave the vial back to Dorrin, who in turn placed it in her pouch.  Determined never to make the same mistake, she buckled her sack around her waist and covered it within the folds of her robe.  Then she followed Sage out of their room and down into her impending doom.

Sage walked with Dorrin all the way down to the door of the Potions master's office.  The dungeons choked the life out of the prisoner even quicker than the first time she had entered them.  When Sage turned to leave, she grabbed her arm.

            "Where are you going?  You can't leave me like this."

            "What are you talking about?  I'm not the one that got you into this mess.  Besides, I was told to come back to class after I delivered you.  Sorry, Dorrin, but you're on your own."

It was the last thing she wanted to hear.

The door to Professor Snape's office opened with much less ease than the previous time Dorrin had encountered them.  They screeched so loudly that she thought they were calling out to the Professor that his captive had arrived.  There was less light in this room than there had been in his class, if that was even fathomable.  The only light came from a few well-placed candles on his desk.  There were walls lined with jars and boxes—all of which Dorrin refused to look at, for obvious reasons.  There were papers everywhere, but the area was well organized; it was a propensity for Snape to always be well organized.  She walked unhurriedly closer to him, careful not to bump into anything in the cramped space.  Her meticulous efforts failed her when a jar full of slug-like creatures fell off a stool she brushed against.  Luckily, she caught it before it fell to the ground.  Despite the racket she was making, he didn't even so much as lift his head.  He was still scribbling as feverishly on the parchment as he had the first day he spoke her name.  Dorrin wished now that she had another name to go by. 

            "Miss Chambers," the Professor hissed, placing his pen down and lifting his head to meet her frozen stare, "I believe you have some explaining to do."

Summoning up what courage and pride she had left, Dorrin reached into her robes and pulled out the bottle that she had shown her friend just minutes earlier.  She placed it on Snape's desk and preceded to tell him the same story she had told Sage.  Despite it's persuasive plot, the professor didn't buy it.

            "Although your explanation sounds convincing, I do believe there is something that you are leaving out.  Something very big and very important."  His eyes penetrated hers like a thousand poisoned arrows.  Although she had told herself not to be intimidated by any human--especially this one--she couldn't help but shrink away at his glare.  Perhaps it was the lack of sunlight, or the sickening pair of eyes that watched her in a jar from above his head   Whatever the reason, Dorrin knew she wasn't going to leave his classroom until the truth was told.  And frankly, she was tired of hiding.


End file.
